


Light Shadows

by QuietlyImplode



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Coping Mechanisms, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Natasha Romanov-centric, Red Room (Marvel), Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt, not graphic but there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:01:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27613166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietlyImplode/pseuds/QuietlyImplode
Summary: Notes on Survival."Night must break for day and the day for the night, The world is made of broken things pieces themselves back together - this is what gives us the most resilient of stories." (Nikita GIll)Natasha allows herself one day, one day to grieve for her past.From the tumblr prompt from @Kali588 "No, please don't turn off the light."
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 11
Kudos: 56





	Light Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kali588](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kali588/gifts).



> The first couple of paragraphs reference child abuse consistent with the red room and all that this entails, including child abuse and references to child sexual abuse. As always, take care of yourself first. 
> 
> Things get (kind of) fluffy at the end? Not really though. 
> 
> @itsnotokbutwereallright /@kali588 - I did say it'd get dark before it gets better but I'm not sure if this is what you were thinking. But! It's not Endgame levels of crapiness so there is that?? This is about as fluffy as it's gonna get..

18th November. Samara. Russia. 1992. 

"No, please don't turn off the light," Ana whispers to Natasha. "When you turn off the light, they come in. They.."

"I have to Ana, they'll punish us all worse if we don't." Natasha whispers, urgently, then flips the switch and crawls into bed, securing her wrist to the post and closing her eyes. What will come, will come; it's the decision of the elder to only punish one versus the whole dormitory. The monsters aren't only at night here, there's monsters in the day and even when she closes her eyes. 

She drifts to sleeps to the sounds of the door opening, and closes her eyes harder in hopes that it's not her the monsters come after tonight. 

She wakes in the morning the Ana's angry face, bruises evident and a bluster of words. "This is your fault." she spits. "There is no worse punishment." The other girls look on, relief evident that it wasn't them, and pity at their comrade for the fate that's befallen her. They've all had it done, but Ana seems to be somewhat of a favourite. 

"This is not my fault. The light wouldn't have helped," Natasha retorts. "They were coming for you anyway." 

Ana blusters. "We'll see." She mutters. 

.  
19th November. Samara. Russia. 1992. 

"The light stay on." Ana commands the room. "Just for tonight." 

Natasha concedes, rolls her eyes and throws herself into bed. What does she care? Her mind spinning in english words, dates and cartoon rabbits jumping in her head. Her muscles are sore in a way that feels overworked, and she wishes she had gone to the toilet after dinner. The lure of being able to go outside and breathe fresh air too great, plus she reasons, she doesn't know when that will happen again. At this moment, she doesn't care about the group punishment that will come for leaving the light on. She just wants to sleep.  
.  
She wakes not long after sleep has rested on her, to the sounds of a groan and yelling and what sounds like a stabbing flesh wound. The light is still on and she looks over to see Ana grinning with her hand cuffs protruding from the man's femoral artery. There's blood everywhere. 

"Leave the light on and let them see what happens when they come for us." Ana laughs manically, looking at the mirror where they have long since suspected as being two-way. 

They come for her then, haul the man up, his lifeless body oozing. They then pick up Ana and frog march her away. 

They don't see Ana again. 

.  
19th November. New York. America. 2010. 

"Taaaash. Come over. Come and watch stupid TV." Clint voice comes through the phone. 

Natasha doesn't respond, too caught up in memories and fears. Methodically, she moves around the apartment and switches the lights on, the light illuminating the darkest of corners. She should be over this. Should be past it. Should divulge it to a therapist if she's honest with herself. 

But; tonight she owes it to herself to remember. Remember that sometimes, the light needs to be switched on to turn the monsters away, or at the very least, fight the monsters that plague her thoughts and memories. 

"Tashaaaaa," Clint whines. "I'm bored." 

She hangs the phone up, and settles in for what she knows is going to be a long night. That's all she gives herself, this one night; to grieve, to give in.

.

19th of November. 2012. Caracas. Venezuela. 

"This place is far nicer than you made it sound, it's even got a mattress on the floor." Clint reports, throwing his duffle bag to the corner of the room. 

"You got here quickly." Natasha responds, eyes staying on the night vision goggles, eyeballing the collection of military leaders that had gathered for the second time that day. 

"What can I say? When big oil is involved, people want to move fast." He looks around. "Nat, why are all the lights on? You know we are supposed to be covert, right?" He moves across to the light switch and moves to turn it off. 

"No, please don't turn off the light!" She says quickly, words reminiscent of those spoken all those years ago. It feels almost triggering.  
He stops short and stares at her back, unsure of emotion that's suddenly settled in the room.

"Okay... " he utters. "Can i ask why?" 

Natasha continues to mask her face with the goggles, and works to settle her breathing. "Just. Don't." She gets out. 

Clint, ever the practical spy, closes the curtains and pulls Natasha away from the window. "You ok?" he asks. 

"As good as you were 6 months ago," she says with a snark. "Just give me tonight and things will be fine tomorrow." She clarifies and backs away from him and settles under the light. 

He looks at her suspiciously, but lets it drop; securing the room whilst Natasha nurses a drink. It's better, she concedes to herself, that he's here with her. 

.

19th of November, 2013. Tokyo. Japan.

The hospital is bright and the lights are automatic. Which means; they all turn off automatically. She's being held and is handcuffed to the bed, nobody likes a caught spy although the Japanese government is nothing if not accomodating; treating her wounds first and the obstructions of justice second. 

She's thankful, at this time, that the whole city is bright and loud but it doesn't stop the darkness creeping in. She can't move far, the tasers have left her legs jelly and body unstable, and a blow to the head has left her more dizzy than she likes. She wants to press the call button to turn on the lights but she doesn't want to draw attention. 

But she's aware of the date. 

She needs the lights on. 

Ana appears before her, "I told, Natalia. I told you." 

The monsters are coming. She tries to pull away, to turn on the lights, to get closer to the window, to return back to the safe-house. Anything but here. She's too clumsy to lockpick the cuff, and too strung out to move without whiting out. 

She's stuck. She hates being stuck.  
.  
Nobody talks to her about what happened in Tokyo (it's played off as a mission gone wrong). They know that she fell from the second story of the building and that her thumb was broken (amongst other things). She wasn't trying to hurt herself she tells Clint when he asks. She was just trying to get outside. Escape. She doesn't say from what. She remanded in Shield custody with a round of psych and therapy.  
.

November 18th 2014. Location undisclosed. 

Shield has fallen. 

Clint's the only safe place. 

She makes her way to him, and falls into his arms. He knows what's happened. He watches the news. He's left breadcrumbs for her to find her way back to him. And she has. 

He's gentle with her, redressing her shoulder wound, running baths. They don't talk. They don't need to, everything has been aired on the television or the internet. What more is there to say? She sleeps, only waking when he offers her the most comforting meal he can think of, and they fall asleep in each others arms, with Clint stroking her hair and humming softly.

She wakes on the 19th, and for the first time, doesn't feel like the walls are closing in. 

Natasha takes the day slowly, moving to the bathroom, showering and tending to her wounds. She feels sorry for herself in a listless way, and it's only when she steps out of the room she notices what he's done. 

There's Christmas lights everywhere. He's hung them along the walls, on the windows and framed them over the door. Tears spring and the overwhelming feeling of comfort and that things are going to be ok overtakes her. 

He notices her awe and wraps his arms around her in a hug, kissing the top of her head. 

"One more thing," he whispers into her ears. 

He leads her to the front room where he's make a fort of lights, draped blankets and pillows and made it so that they can watch movies projected onto a sheet. He pulls her down and makes her enter in, the colours of the lights playing off each other so they dance.

She has no words. How do you say thank you to someone for making the monsters go away? For clearing her mind of the darkness. It's magic. 

He smiles and tugs at her to lie with him. "No more darkness. Not right now anyway." He whispers. 

She kisses him hard, hopes that it conveys everything.  
.


End file.
